There are so many lonely couples, busyness having eaten its way in, misaligned priorities, love gone cold, energy sapped away by the incessant demands of life, too many pressures and the inability to say no.
When I was single, I somehow forgot the loneliness that frequently visits marriage; I fell into a sober stupor of idealism that marriage is the solution to loneliness.
It isn’t.
Whenever we get married or partner up to have our loneliness solved,
each and every time we’ll end up disappointed at best, devastated at worst.
If anything, loneliness becomes more profoundly felt when we’re partnered. It’s because we shouldn’t feel it. We’ve got an intimate partner to be with, who should desire us.
But what if they don’t? What if their passion has waned and yours hasn’t? Or, they simply don’t have your energy. What if you face an ongoing sense of loss—an ambiguous grief for what you crave, for what’s right there in front of you, as far as potential is concerned.
It’s not the same to say, “Well, count your blessings that at least you’ve had those experiences.” The human state is inclined to want more of what were the best experiences.
Yet, if you’re reaching out... desperate to be understood, frantic to be met, lovesick and lonely, and you even convey the words... and still there’s no response.
There’s hardly more heartache than that
because it feels etched in betrayal—
even if it’s not a betrayal.
It happens so often. Don’t feel you’re alone in being alone. It’s incredibly common.
For the other, there’s the feeling that, “I don’t know what’s wrong... I don’t have the energy... I feel pushed into a corner... the more pressure you put on the less I feel I want to give you.”
Sometimes it’s about attachment styles. Some of us are needy. Some of us like our autonomy. And it’s uncanny how opposites seem to attract.
Whenever we get married or partner up to have our loneliness solved,
each and every time we’ll end up disappointed at best, devastated at worst.
And loneliness is not just about romantic relationships. Sometimes it’s that intransigent distance between a parent and a prodigal child or a child and their prodigal parent. For want of one human soul to come to their senses.
If you’re lonely right now, it does us well to acknowledge that we are, of a sense, cosmically alone in this life.
Job says, “Naked I came into the world, naked I will leave.”
Into life we come with nothing. We exit life the same way.
And it seems incredible to us that this cosmic loneliness should follow us from time to time, season through season, in this life.
Within loneliness is an opportunity. To overcome the grief of loss in such moments, once and for all.
For me, and for many of Jesus faith, it’s the presence of a God who promises nothing less than the continuous divine presence practiced by faith.
Others, too, have their own ways. You may have yours.
I guess what I’m getting at is loneliness is an opportunity—to remain miserable or to do something about it; to bemoan it or to accept it; for it to be a cursed or blessed reality.
I’m not saying you shouldn’t be lonely. You WILL be lonely. I write this now because I feel lonely. I’m in the right head and heart space to write this right now.
My opportunity right now is to face it and to feel it.
Its pain is nothing to fear.
Within every unfortunate thing is an opportunity—within conflict, betrayal, disappointment, loneliness...
When we approach an unfortunate thing and look for the opportunity, we display resilience. It can be done, one moment at a time. Resilience is no cliché. It can’t be faked.
Photo by Sam Moqadam on Unsplash
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